Unrequited
by Damagoed
Summary: Admiring from afar is really a very painful thing to do.
1. Chapter 1

The most important rule of unrequited love is that the object of that love must never, ever find out. Otherwise the spell will be broken and terrible, earth altering consequences will ensue. The true unrequited lover will lurk in the shadows and the half lights. Watching and admiring from a safe distance. It is better that way.

Of course there are always the games to be played. Knowing where they are at all times. Knowing what they are doing. Where they are going. Who they are seeing. It isn't stalking. Not the same thing at all. You don't believe for one moment that they will ever feel the same way about you. You never believe that the two of you were meant to be together. Oh no. That would not do at all.

You don't believe for a moment as you follow him around that you are important to him in any way. As you watch his body move under the elegant lines of his suit. The tall, slim body that dances as he makes his way in the world. You are not important. He doesn't know you exist. Not really.

You wake up thinking about him. You dream of things you know are not real. You plan the life you will never have. You fool yourself in to thinking that you know him. What he's like. What makes him smile, what makes him sad. Only you don't really know him at all. You have built him up from his public face, the many public faces. Not one of them is the private face. Perhaps who he really is would leave you disappointed? But then you look at his face, his smile, hear his voice and you don't care.

And those eyes. You would die for those eyes. They don't look at you. Even when you are face to face. Because you are worse than invisible to him. You are transparent. Like the glass in a window. He knows it's there but he just looks through it in order to see other things.

Sometimes he looks so beautiful that it hurts you to look at him. You wonder if he knows how beautiful he is. You want to tell him, but of course that would be breaking the most important rule.

Instead you try to gain his attention in other ways. You like the same things he does, whether you really like them or not. And you try to impress him with your cleverness. Or you try to make him laugh. Just to make him laugh once. Once. Just one moment of sweet approbation. Is that too much to ask?

But he doesn't know you exist. Not really. It's better that way.


	2. Chapter 2

Eventually you realise they are never going to notice you. And worse they are never going to love you. And then. Well then your heart breaks just a little bit. Cracks a little. Becomes damaged. And eventually, well there's no heart left. Just a twisted little part of your brain that used to be connected to it. And that twisted little part grows, and twists some more. And it comes up with a plan.

Not a good plan. Not a great plan. But one that will work. They will notice you if it's the last thing you ever do. They will look at you. They will know you exist.

Love and Hate. Two sides of the same ever spinning coin. If they won't love you, and they will never love you, you will make them hate you. Because provoking any emotion is better than none at all. Better than the cool indifference. Those beautiful eyes that just don't see you. You are going to make them notice you. Make them see.

And it's easy. Really easy. You find out what they love. What they hold most dear. And then you destroy it. Piece by piece. Brick by brick. You bring it all tumbling down. And they notice. It is so easy. Irritation and annoyance turn to hatred and you find yourself face to face with them whilst they rage and shout at you. They warn you to stay away. To stop. But they still don't look at you. Still don't see you. Don't know how long you have looked at them and wanted them to be yours.

And of course the rules say you can never tell.

And so you carry on. Now it's no longer a game. It's your life. They are your obsession. And now they at least know your name. Outrage follows outrage. Every day another little twist of the knife. Just so they don't forget who you are. Just so yours is the name they wake up thinking about. The name they go to sleep with. The name that weaves in to their dreams.

They will never love you. But they will hate you.


	3. Chapter 3

You know he's watching you. You know what it's all come to. And you know it's about to come to an end. And finally. Finally, he's going to notice you.

You look at Sherlock standing there in front of you and you know he's confused. Because he doesn't get it. Of course he doesn't. He thinks it's about him. Of course he does. It all revolves around him. Only it doesn't.

It's about sex. Well, not so much sex. It's about a passion that burns the heart out of you. You love Him and He'll never ever know. Not even now. Not even when you stand on this rooftop, with Sherlock at your mercy.

And all the King's horses and all the King's men can't make it better.

The only thing left to do is to hurt Him. To take what He cares about and destroy it. To make Him helpless, the way He made you helpless. To make Him feel so much pain that He thinks his heart is going to burst. Because that's what He did to you. Every time He looked at you, with those cold eyes. Looked at you but never saw you.

It's time now. Face to face with Sherlock. Desperately pleading with you, suddenly smug because he thinks he can stop it. Thinks he's so clever. Thinks it's about him. And you see the CCTV camera swing round to look at you. And you know. Finally. It's time.

One gun. One bullet. Simple. You pull the trigger.

And the last thought in James Moriarty's head, just before the bullet turns his brain into rooftop, is that finally, Mycroft Holmes is looking at him. And seeing him.


End file.
